Northern Lights Southern Cross is a Canadian immigrant’s journal. My spouse and I have been living in Alberta for twelve years now, and this rugged landscape has become our home. These entries describe our journey through the days...our random thoughts, our lofty dreams, our faltering steps, our bright hopes. Please join us for a brief sojourn or an entire season.

I read for a while upon waking (new author recommended by Indian/Sri Lankan client Asha Phillips); went for a post-church walk in the spring snow--blustery one moment; blue skies the next (took my camera along); worked for a few hours (editing) before my usual Sunday afternoon nap; caught up on some correspondence (to my mom-in-law and a few other friends); wrote a poem called "audience of one" (just for me, but shared it anyway); spoke to a BC friend; worked some more.

Now 'tis time for supper and a relaxing eve. (Mainly R needs a tax break. Don't we all?)

23 April 2010

Today Marilyn rode Seagull and I trotted up Scenic Trail on Colbert--both horses new to us. (Secretly, Dopey is M's favourite, and I've mostly ridden Banner or Morgan or Clayton, once I passed "beginner" status.) We arrived home a moment ago, and now I'm off to meet my local coffee companions at Java J.

{See you as soon as I've changed out of my horsey jeans, WH.}

The weather was perfect, despite the odd flurry just before we set out. Blue skies; birdsong; greening grass; a trace of snow still on the trail in shadowy spots. Wildlife today amounted to a very large partridge...in a pine tree. :-) Not a deer or coyote in sight. Back next Friday with more Griffin news.

Sneet: n. Precipitation that is neither dry enough to be called snow, nor wet enough to pass as sleet. e.g. We went riding under the blue prairie skies while sneet drifted down around our horses' hooves.

A year ago--April 11--I visited a friend during the Easter weekend. She and I had known each other for a little while, and had begun sharing our creative dreams. After publishing a co-authored book in 2007, I had chosen not to write with someone else again. This she knew. So imagine my great surprise when my friend asked if I'd write with her--consider her a "writing accountability partner"--and her even greater surprise when I said yes! (Yes, please.)

We haven't looked back, and are well on our way to finishing our first book together. She also encourages me to write on my own--something I'm not all that disciplined at doing, so having accountability is a gift!--and I am deeply blessed by this new chapter in my life as a writer.

Yesterday Evelyn and I drove out to Bragg Creek to celebrate our first year of many words, and spent a few quiet hours after lunch writing at the little Mountain Bistro. {Thanks for the delicious soup and good service, Katie.} At last I have made the decision to spend one day a week writing: no phone, no friends, no excuses. Watch this space.

April can be a cruel month indeed, at least according to T.S. Eliot (1888-1965), and my accountant spouse. The full weight of tax season is upon us, and the overflow of paper from our office seems ceaseless. (Somebody, somewhere, tell me a paperless office is possible!)

A week ago--Easter long weekend--my friend Tammy and I attended Kristin and Matt's wedding: radiant couple; splendid ceremony; fine food and memorable company. I'll write about that in due course (remind me a month from now if I forget). Coincidentally, the Born couple we sat with at supper knew two of my dearest Klassen friends, as well as the Hieberts from my home church. "It's a small, small world."

{Kris, what joy to see you again after so many years! You're lovelier than ever.}

Tammy accompanied me partly because my hubby was working, and she and I enjoyed our first girls-only weekend in almost a dozen years of friendship. So much fun did we have that we've vowed to go away on our own again; our families get together frequently, but it was nice to be alone, sleeping late, reading for hours, sharing interesting bits from our books, talking until one of us dozed off, walking through her old neighbourhood in the rain, attending church on Easter Sunday (a glorious service!) and dining out. On our last night, we ventured into a sidewalk café where a French chef was flipping crépes: my favourite food group. {Mom, I ordered cinnamon and sugar with lemon: the taste of my childhood.}

Each of us saw only a couple of friends while we were away; we chose to spend our limited time resting instead of travelling.

One of my favourite weekend treats was waking to the smell of fresh coffee (Tammy spoiled me by bringing me home-baked treats and hot beverages in bed each morning!) and I got to lie in while she showered. At night I bathed, and in the afternoons she read while I napped. A perfectly relaxing way to spend a long weekend! {Thank you, TM.}